En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Timeless Words

the written word read
is never voiceless
it ever attains strange bedfellows
wonders off to habitat

timeless words of power
shall ever invoke
resonance of splendor
imagination boundless

in favourable
conditions of environment
words take root

hosts of possibility
grow to fruitation
born of fertile mind

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Words of Fire

Words of Fire,
Words of Power,
With the force of a steam train,
With the speed of a bullet,
You hit me.

You knocked me off my high horse,
Upon the ground I lay,
Unable to move,
Such is the power of your word,
You hit me.

When first I read your word,
Words of Fire,
Words of Power,
The threat of culpable damnation,
The gift of undeserved salvation.

You are the living Word,
The only word,
Who was,
Who is,
Who is to come.

Words of Fire,
Words of Power,
Words of Eternity,
Words of Fire,
That burn within my heart.

From my youth,
My hair now grey,
Those words of Fire,
Those words of Power,
My life maintained.

poem by Steven Reeve
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Untitled 15

there is a mountain of words
an ocean of words
a continent of words

there is a rain of words
a flood of words
a river of words and true to their being words

they also disintegrate as syllables
on the other hand some form the clauses
conditions and terms
some make sentences and paragraphs

a world of words full of words
i am not a word and i am buried in a mountain of words
a sea of words i drown
a continent of words i am condemned to walk all the days of my life

too may words my ears do not listen anymore.
my eyes do not like to read anymore.

i like something not having to do with words.
what about a touch? what about a picture?
what about a kiss?

why don't people just make love without saying a word?
let us start touching the hearts of people
to avoid this war of words that lead us to our own perdition.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words

Words on this paper
Words in my head
Words while I'm texting
Computing
Unsaid
Words between people
Words on the phone
Words upon words
Even when I'm alone
Words from the Bible
I question
Don't mesh
Words from pornography
Making them flesh
Words with flat letters
Written in black
Good words and bad words
You cannot take back
Words that are shallow
Words that are deep
When they're too many
They put me to sleep
Words that I'm writing
And rhyming you read
Whatever I'm saying
There's prolly no need
Words from the alphabet
Words that can't be
When you are blind
And it's Braile that you see
Words that are worthless
And said on the fly
My words or your words
Are most likely lies
Words in a sentence
Wise words or fair
The only words earnest
Are those said in prayer

Written by Sara Fielder © 2011

poem by Sara Fielder
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The Silence Between

the silence between
words being written and read
seduces the mind to think
thoughts of creation anticipate
the blank canvas of the mind
which mirrors the open soul
calling out to listen
to the sound of pen upon paper
a mind at work
is a beautiful thing
and in writing seductive
words flow into sentence
a verse crafts itself
to be seen, felt
all in the aftermath
of the silence between
words being written
words being read

poem by Matthew Holloway
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Interactive

I write some lines and you read each word
A word excites you and you take it up to
Seed your fields where you grow your own
Shrubbery of words with tendrils climbing
I look at your garden of words and there is
This word growing into a flower attracting
Me I pick it up this sensual flower and I
Seed it in the lines of my mind now another
Bunch of words like ripe grapes I take one
Swallow it and savor the taste of its sweetness
More lines of words in my throat sliding
Through the lining of my esophagus so smooth
Going straight inside the veins leading to my heart
Sweet, so sweet I could have written the usual
Lines of “ I love you, I miss you” but I couldn’t
There is this roadblock, this writer’s block
The lines stopped, the words are stunted
I stutter, I retreat to my eyes, to see
The face of this woman I love, her eyes
Are gentle, she smiles at me, and waits
For this beautiful silence that gives her life
You stand there, looking for a hint, another
Word to seed the lines waiting to be written.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Thought Upon the Power of Words

Words have the power to please the soul of awareness
Words have the power of ecstasy; they have the power to heal or to scorn
Words have the power to rebuild worlds that have been torn apart by words.
Words have the power to invoke, to choke and to joke,
They have the power to bring you to your knees just as they have the power to plea.
Words have the power to incite trance like states, they have the power of fate,
They conceal meanings deeper than he greatest oceans and are a method
By which we express the emotions we feel, just as we may use them to question
What we consider to be real. You can incite love, hatred, fear,
You can bring a tear to the most stone cold of king giants and you may
Describe the sorrows of the world yet through words we may also share our dreams,
We may ponder upon the events of tomorrow and we may laugh with one another.
We may love and express love through our words though at times we go unheard,
We may share in our experience as we may laugh alongside memories ghost.
Words are the host to our instinctive knowing of all we wish to express,
Words are the dressing of our wisdoms blessing, with words we may put the soul to rest.

poem by David Lacey
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Vellum

I write my name down on paper
paper that has a unrealistic desire
to be vellum

I read what I have written
for a sense of authenticity
more authentic than my image
reflected in a mirror stained with mildew
and toothpaste

The words on this paper
anyone can read
bums, whores, addicts,
homosexuals
intellectuals
and the broken old men
whose hope died
in the past

I write
but I don't speak
what I write
details what I see

The things I see
O, the things I see
could invoke suicidal tendencies
in a child who still believes
in Christmas carols
and hunting Moby Dick
whom rules the seas

How tragic it is
to let fleeting imagination
slowly die among the magic spelling
of the words we once spoke
on Christmas Eve

And now I sit
with the adulterated gift
of alcohol
and nicotine
writing down words on paper
whom wish to be vellum
but realistically
could never be

poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
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The Love Letter

She wonders how to begin her letter
She knows he will read each word
Greedily for any hint of love. She knows
He will sniff the paper for any scent of her

She leans an elbow on her writing desk
And clutches her pen tight. She has got
As far as, Dear John, but then the words
Stopped coming. Before she had sat down
To write, the words flowed through her
Mind like a rushing stream, now nothing

She sucks the end of the pen. Say what
You would if you were face to face, her
Mother always said. She tries to imagine
He is there before her and what she would
Say if he was, but still no words will come

He writes to her so fluently when he writes
He always seems to know what to write
And how to put it into words. She tries again
Puts the pen nib onto the paper, gripping
The pen tighter. She reads what she’s written

Dear John. The pen moves, the words begin
To flow, her hand moves across the page
The images come into her mind as she writes
The things that they said last time they met
The things they did, she blushes slightly
That almost being caught out by the maid
In a state of undress. She pauses the pen
And sits gazing at the painting on the wall.

She looks back at the paper and starts again
The words tripping over themselves to be put
Down in ink upon a page; the images open up
In her mind, the colours, the smells, the events

The pen now stops. The love letter is written
The writing done. She looks at the words
Then she seals it in an envelope and writes
His address. She pictures him reading it: in bed
In his room, sleepy, in a state of his usual undress

poem by Terry Collett
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Written In Stone

When we kiss that way
I search for words that
Might explain
How can a love go so deep
Girl, its in my blood
Itll always be a part of me
If we stay together
Or if we go our separate ways
I know... love will last forever
The sun may someday lose its light
The moon may not shine one night
Your heart will always have a home
It is written in stone - written
In stone
Seasons go by and minds
Have changed
But I will never doubt why i
Feel this way
It goes on so strong
Like a solid rock
Even when the moments gone
Nothing lasts forever
But one things sure to stay
The same
Our love... the love is getting better
The sun may someday lose its light
The moon may not shine one night
I know just how the story goes
It is written in stone - written
In stone
True love is timeless and
Unconditional
You dont need to read the writing
On the wall
I can see the future - happiness
Wont fade away
The sun is in the sky just like it
Was yesterday
Love will last forever
The sun may someday lose its light
The moon may not shine one night
Your heart will never be alone
It is written in stone - written
In stone
True love is timeless
It will grow through smiles
And sadness
Wont you walk with me
Our love, it will be forever
I know sometimes you might not
Believe it
But baby Ill do my best to show
You, let you see it
Time might not be so bad
I know well come out ahead
Love is timeless
Timeless and unconditional
You dont need to read the writing
On the wall
Its written in stone
Happiness wont fade away

song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spoke To The Heart

many will read
few will comment

written words provoked
no response
in heart of emptiness
no answering echo chimed

perhaps these probing words
were not written to you

perhaps your faith
was still fledgling
unable to leave nest
to venture forth

upon world adventures
courage to take wing
was lacking
it was not your time

words never spoke
to your heart
perhaps they were not
written to you

perhaps you never
opened minds eye
perhaps you never will
perhaps this is not

your life purpose
perhaps to lead is
not written upon
enlightened soul

is not an aspiration
also born are those
who must follow
who must serve

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Words

So many words are there in our speech,
they can be very poor, they can be rich.
No one can be indifferent to their meaning
as they are alive and express your feeling.
Spoken word is not just a sound,
it can’t be found on the ground,
it’s always in your head, sometimes in your soul.
When it is spoken it becomes a parole.
A word is an energy of your spirit,
it was presented to you by God, it’s His merit.
A word is a tool of communication,
A word is a source of information.
“A word spoken is past recalling”.
Strolling all around it can’t be found,
returned back and kept in your sack.
“The pen is mightier than the sword”,
that was told about a written word.
Words, words, words………………
They are love and seduction,
each one with a certain function.
They are wonders of sin
and songs of education.
They are salvation, temptation, affectation…
They can be an executioner,
they can be the owner of a whiner.
A word can be a treatment,
It helps when you are ill.
A kind word is better than a pill.
But…there are words that just kill.
They sound like a horrible drill.
Words, words, words…………
They are triumph and defeat,
They can be pleasant and sweet.
At the end of my message
I would like everyone to acknowledge:
Each word has a strength
and it doesn’t depend on its length.
So, think before saying a word,
as it is quite well heard even by walls,
it touches someone’s soul,
it shouldn’t be a wicked foul.
“Better the foot to slip than the tongue”.
And… there is no exception for the young.

Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)

poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The First Poem

The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
The words I love you
written by this beauty's tongue
turned a heart rosy red from a somber blue
and made me burn for my heart was wrung.
The first poem I ever read
is the first poem I ever said.
On her poetic lips love words refined
and shaped a sonnet on her flesh defined
On those lips I read a poet's song
And knew it was there my lips belonged.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I love you, I love you
What does it mean?
These words said, to start anew
something pure and something serene.
The first words I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
Those first words she whispered into my ear
And in my heart, her poem stood near
Those are the most beautiful words one ever said
I love you, I love you, will live till its dead.
The first poem I ever read
is the first words I ever said.
I read her lips, I love you, I love you..
now to sleep I go in love's sweet bed.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I Like To Think That All These Are But A Game Of Words

that is the impression from the beginning
when i started to scribble
word, and more words, i assured her that they do not
mean anything at all just
words, and words and more words

that even a sunflower wilting and spreading all the seed on her feet
are nothing too but words and more words
nothing to grow nothing to expect like a sprouting something

thus my loneliness, i again assure here, is nothing but a word
my way of taking solitude on the other side to save myself
is another word, and she of course, did not believe me saying

there is more to these words, there is fire in them and i see you burning
there is the sun inside them and the letters glow and the

there is smoke rising from the heads of vowels
from the nonspeaking consonants

i keep hiding the flowers
i bury those that are alive in the silence of my pretensions

until one day she grips me like she is a knife wanting to stab me
and then she stabbed me right in my throat and there i bleed

words, words, and more words coming from the slit
bloody words, and she was convinced, until death, ... and then i vanish.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Papa

Papa, this is your son writing to you from a very strange land;
There is air on this land but with the floating minds that muses,
And of the power of love and the power of the muse that it brings.
I have been able to live here for many years and,
I have taken your words and i am now myself over here.
This is a very strange land with no air,
But your words had taken me in that far;
For up and close and personal is the muse that the land shares.

I am living on this strange land with my lover,
But my heart will grow on to fulfil my dreams;
Papa, it is all coming back to you now!
For your words are my weapons over here to muse up with others.

The immortality of the mortals seems far from this dream,
And i will always do my best to get you the news from here always;
But if the walls could talk, they could have told you much already.
I will give up on this dream and,
Living in this strange land will be my weapon ahead;
For, i left home to be able to satisfy you people as well.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The f word and me

The other day we discussed reasons
why people use
the magical f word.

a Young woman is of the opinion
that it’s because of a lack of imperfect language,
where a person’s vocabulary
lacks other words to use.

I think that there are many more other reasons
to slip in everywhere
and that vocabulary
has very little
or nothing to do with it.

One thing that can incite it
is exposure,
where people hear it
hundreds of times
every day
like in an army.

Subsequently without intention
it becomes part of your conversation
and your own vocabulary,
without drawing any attention
with yourself.

The word f is a power word
that give colour intensity
to the meanings of other words
and it can underline, emphasize
or lift some out.

You can also use it as a word
that has many meanings
and use it like a good shifting spanner
that shift for meaning values.

This word can also
be almost any word type
that gives bigger power
to other words used with it.

The thing that really matters
what others read
in the meaning of my words
and if I loose integrity by using it.

There are times
my mother wants to catch a fit
when I use the f word
and not from the meaning
of my words,

but from the negative context
that can be drawn with the word
and the easy transfer
of the word on children that hear my dialogue.

[With thanks to Skymaster, whose article inspired this poem.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Only In My Mind

thoughts fire
mind blaze
run on wind

words sing mind melodies
words sing song new images
dance in heart veins flow

words shape shift
into new thoughts
concepts poems

several are written
in time heart beats
wonder stirs anew

but only in my mind
where the beauty sings
sung sight meditation

no words given unto paper
no words processed on light screen
no words kept mind record

dart of honeybird flight
bats fly sonar night vision
wing beats of wonder

words released born free

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Poem

Words hung on paper
Like thoughts in the wind
Some flitter to and fro
But the good ones always seem to blow
Away and away,
Again and again.
Go down to the river of exile
Where the sad ones cry,
Go out to the catacombs
Where the old ones die...
Like a leaf in the fall
It's all such a temporary thing,
So put a little music with it
And hope it'll make someone's soul sing.
Slumbering forth with sadness
A mingled mixture of madness
This sobriquet symphony
Of mellow deep;
Heart felt longings,
Vagabond thoughts,
And lack of sleep -
Every bit of being blends
As awe and imagination together
Never end.
Mighty words in waves
Churn man's deep,
With wild wonders to reap.
Where mystery and majesty are born,
The poetic possibilities of translation
Range from sage to scorn.
In a million ways arriving
Within each new day
The great gift given,
If only wise enough words can be found
To say.
These are the forms and foundations of poem,
Read or written, loved or smitten,
Gathered together, or alone,
If one will only listen to hear
The faint whispers of Eternity speak,
Ever drawing nearer, and nearer...

poem by Smoky Hoss
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Whispers In The Wind [How I Write]

The words I write
Are just whispers in the wind
Coming home to greet me
Like an old friend
Swirling around in my head
Waiting to be set free
From my mind to my fingertips
On paper they must be
Written down before they're gone
Oh Lord how can this be
Word by word they hit the page
In an order I do not know
But once all are written
They are where they all should go
Telling a story in magnificent words that
Jesus whispers to me

poem by David Kush
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Love And So Many Deaths

you are
rooted to the
fertile fields of
our conversations

you are not
just an imagination

never another
pagination of
my book

a hard cover
with bold letters
that cannot be ignored
by the switching off
of the light
in the room

i want to puke
to take you out
of my system

you are a mass
of growing cells
in my body

you are root
words
an imagination
that is real
a book
a cancer cell
inside my brain

you are killing me
i am dying
you are telling me
this is what love
is all about

it has always been
an old link: love,
death,
love, death.

love.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What Is Said

How could I ever tell you how important what you say
can be
that the words of any man in a day
can affect a life, millions, or even me
our words have so much power
so do not cower
and do not shy away
do not hold back what you want to say
because your words affect a lifetime
speak your mind
all shall be fine
do not fear rejection for the reward is sublime
to save life or cause a turn
to help the world, or save one destined to burn
but forget not that words destroy and create
break down and perpetuate
the power of words and their force of love
the power of words and their capacity for sadistic destruction
forget not that you hold inside this death and life
the power to create argument and strife
or peace and tranquility
remember, remember dear child that each word can kill
each word can fill
with love and joy
or malice and contempt
so don't attempt
to downplay their importance
and play the fool
because its those words that are a part of you
its those words that yours my child
now use them wisely, say what must be said
for with all my years of experience i have learned that what's most important
sometimes...
is simply
What's said

poem by David Knox
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